


Just Take Me Back To Who I Was (When I Was Younger)

by br0ken_hands



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, anyways this is how to properly tag a relationship that's not important to the actual story, background beau/yasha, background molly/caleb, dont mind me im just salty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-10 01:32:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15280626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/br0ken_hands/pseuds/br0ken_hands
Summary: "I've enlisted."The room quiets, and all eyes turn to Fjord."I'm... Sorry?" Molly asks, a glass of whiskey in his hand.Beauregard, Caleb, Fjord, Mollymauk, Nott, and Yasha are just young adults living in and around London when war comes to their doorstep. With conflict on the horizon, the Mighty Nein try to continue to live normal lives., but normal is about to change in a big way, and things are not to stay the same.





	Just Take Me Back To Who I Was (When I Was Younger)

**Author's Note:**

> This is important for me to say right away before you read. I came up with the idea for this fic in the shower during the break of last night's episode (Episode 26). I was halfway through writing it when, well, everything happened. However, I felt like I needed to stay true to my creative urges and as a result, this fic may be sensitive to read for those who were deeply affected by last night's events. This fic includes a major character death and eulogies from the remaining Mighty Nein. I want to establish this before we go forward. This fic was not written to further any wounds. The only thing that changed post-stream was my decision to elongate the eulogy in order to say thank you to this character, even if it's in a completely different AU. That said, remember to love each other.

JULY 1939

"I've enlisted."

The room quiets, and all eyes turn to Fjord.

"I'm... Sorry?" Molly asks, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

Fjord clears his throat, lifting a mug of ale to his lips to wet them. "I've uh... I've enlisted."

There's an uncomfortable silence that settles over the abandoned basement in a small building in the Cheapside district of London. Glances are cast between the members of the room before Beau pipes up.

"Why? It's not like England is in any danger right now."

Fjord shrugs. "It feels like the right thing to do. Haven't you ever felt like you wanted to make a difference? Hitler's a bad man, and I want to stop him. So I enlisted." He hides his face behind the mug again, avoiding eye contact.

"But Fjord! What if you die!" Jester's high pitched voice cuts through the heaviness.

Fjord shrugs. "They're unlikely to send me to the front lines anyways. Like Beau said, England's not in danger. I just want to sign up to be a part of this and, you know, be part of something bigger than myself And with the draft, some of us are bound to be headed to war anyways. Might as well go now."

The silence envelops the scene again, and this time, it's heavier than the first.

Beau scuffs her boot against the dirty floor, kicking up a bit of dust, and keeps fiddling with the hem of her blue shirt.

"When do you come back?" Caleb's heavily accented voice rises from the door where he sits with Nott, quiet until now.

Fjord shrugs again, and Beau sighs at the evasiveness. "I don't know. As long as they need me, I guess."

Molly nods, solemn, and finishes the rest of his drink and sets down the glass. "So I heard that Mr Demedan Baumbauch was involved in a scandal involving his brewery business..."

The rest of the day passes without incident, and before they all leave to their various homes, they all hug Fjord just a little longer. Fjord doesn't look back when he walks away.

They drop Nott off at her house by the centre of town, Jester by her mother's brothel, and Molly by the outskirts, and Beau, Caleb, and Yasha all wind their way through to the countryside. Beau hops off the road when they reach her family's vineyards, and Caleb heads off half an hour later at a small farm.

"I'll see you the next time we meet, Yasha."

The markings on Yasha's face move as she nods. "I will. Will Nott tell you when we're going to meet again?"

Caleb makes a noise of affirmation and passes through a gate.

Yasha turns her eyes back towards the road and keeps going, the horizon her destination.

\--

SEPTEMBER 1939

The next time they meet, it's in the same place as last time, a dank little room accessible only by a back alley, Beau pulls out several bottles of wine and everyone there cheers. 

"Ah, the joys of having friends with winemakers for parents!" Molly cheers, bringing out his grimy glass. He cleans it on the bottom of his white shirt and holds it out, letting Beau pour out a drink for him. 

"What news?"

"Reservists have been called to war. The Navy has been mobilised, and they're headed Eastward. Chamberlain announces talks have fallen through, Britain is at war, but of course, you all know that by now" Caleb prattles from the corner with Nott, who has filled his cup with whatever mysterious liquid is contained in her metal flask.

Molly sighs and tips his drink back into his throat. "Fuck this whole draft thing. I hate it. We shouldn't be at war." The cup clatters against the table as he sets it down. "The War to End All Wars? Funny, it clearly didn't work."

"Cheers to that." Beau finishes her drink as well and pours herself another one. "My loser of an old man lost his leg, can't be drafted now, but I'm sure that if he could, he would have re-joined the army again. Huzzah, Old Britannia and all that."

Caleb clears his throat but doesn't say anything.

There's more conversation, following up on the Baumbauch case, and candies are passed around courtesy of Jester.

All of them are a little tipsy when they head up to go, but Caleb stops them all by staggering up at the door and standing in front of it.

"Nott, hand me a drink?"

The small hand clutches a cup up to Caleb, who drinks it greedily. He gasps heavily as he pulls the cup away from his lips, and wipes his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. Nott takes the cup from his hand, and Caleb shudders a little.

"I'vebeendrafted."

The cup drops from Nott's mouth and she screams once, short, and filled with horror.

"What?"

The rest of their friends are wide-eyed and gasping.

"I've been drafted. The Military Training Act put in place on the 3rd of June. I've been drafted." Caleb's eyes are hollow, and Beau shudders because Caleb already looks like he's seen his entire squad blown to pieces in front of him, like he's already haunted by the whine of bombs as they fall from the sky, raining fire and shrapnel.

"I- Caleb..."

Caleb shakes his head. "No, Beauregard. There's nothing to be done. I report to the recruiting office in a week."

There's a solemnness that settles over Beau's shoulders, and she smiles sadly. "Come back to us?"

Caleb nods. "I'll try."

"Who will I be awkward with?" Yasha's voice cuts through, the first time she's spoken all day.

Caleb smiles this time. "I'll try."

Molly just stares at Caleb like his world fell apart and Beau thinks that right now, Molly might be the most haunted of them all.

When they leave, Caleb holds each of his friends a little longer than normal, and when he leaves, he blinks away unshed tears and passes through the gate. Yasha continues out towards the horizon.

\--

OCTOBER 1939

It's strange, not having Fjord and Caleb with them, and the news doesn't get any better.

"I leave to train tonight."

Beau groans audibly. "Why are we losing you too?"

"Call-Up Proclamation. All men 20-21 who haven't already must enlist."

Beau swears loudly. "Almost 22, damn it." She kicks over a chair and it clatters against the floor. "At least tell me that it's cool."

Molly shrugs. "I'm going to be a flyboy. Royal Air Force. I guess if I was ever going to be in the army, this is what I'd want to do."

Yasha smiles. "Sounds like something you'd like."

Nott takes a long swig from her flask, then hands it to Molly. "If you see Caleb..."

Molly nods, all charm and good looks. "Of course, Nott."

"I'm going to miss you, Molly!" Jester cries and wraps her arms around Molly's torso.

He presses a kiss to her curly hair and laughs a little. "I'll miss you too."

If it was strange without Fjord and Caleb, it's even stranger watching Molly walk away to the training centre instead of his home just on the outskirts of town. 

\--

AUGUST 1940

Yasha arrives at Beau's place and knocks at the door. When the door opens, Beau's on the other side, face slightly flushed from rushing to the door.

"Hey. Come in." She waves her hand quickly, and Yasha moves through the door and they sneak down into the basement. There's a small basement radio going, and Beau hurries to turn the volume down.

"Why did you..."

Beau shakes his head. "I'm sick and tired of hearing about it."

"About what?"

Beau turns to her. "Didn't you hear? They're bombing London."

The rest of their day is spent huddled around the radio, a bottle of half-finished stolen wine from the cellar on the floor beside them, listening to the broadcast for Yasha's sake, playing cards.

" _... Moreover, on many occasions when A.A. guns have been heavily in action by night, particularly in the London area, 50 per cent. or more of the enemy raiders have turned back before entering the defended area, and many of the raiders which have ventured to enter it have turned back almost at once..._ " The radio crackles and Beau sighs.

"What do you think will happen next?"

Yasha shrugs, putting a card down and smirking as Beau sighs heavily at the number. "They draft us until there are none of us left, and when we're all dead and gone and the earth has been scorched and salted, they'll announce victory and the world will cheer as we quietly die for the name of our queen and country."

Beau whistles. "Heavy stuff."

Yasha shrugs. "With a little bit of luck, we'll all make it."

"I'm feeling lucky tonight, that's for sure." Beau closes the hand with a final card and cheers a little, winking as she takes the fistful of coins off the table. "Another round?"

\--

DECEMBER 1941

They don't open letters from their boys unless they're all together in the basement. Jester has a picture of Fjord and Caleb when their platoons crossed paths out in France. They both look a little worse for wear but it is genuine joy in their faces and Jester runs a finger over the picture with reverence. There are letters from Molly about the cute boys at the hanger and letters from Caleb about a trench cat he's quite taken to. 

Somewhere between the second and third bottle of whiskey Nott sneaked off a shelf somewhere in town, Yasha clears her throat from where she's seated, shoulder to shoulder with Beau. "We can hang out more often now."

Nott blinks. "Why is that?"

"I took a job at the munitions factory on the outskirts of town," Yasha replies, staring into her cup. "It's a good job and pays well."

Jester cheers and claps her hands. "Oh goodie, we always miss you Yasha!"

Yasha's fingers tangle around Beau's and squeeze. 

"I've missed you guys too."

"Hey, did you hear? The Americans are coming here." Nott says, all squeaky and tipsy from her place on the crate by the wall.

Beau scoffs into her cup. "We don't need the help of a traitor's colony."

Yasha grimaces, setting down her cup. "With any hope, we'll be done the war before the troops the Americans have been sent to relieve are shipped further Eastward."

There's a sombre nod of assent, and another round is poured.

\--

FEBRUARY 1943

The only one of their friends not directly linked to the war effort now is Nott. Beau and Jester work tirelessly as nurses in the medical bays of the nearby ports, hustling and bustling to bandage wounds and comfort dying soldiers who cannot be saved as they cross into the afterlife. At first, Beau's nose crinkles as the stench of death and rot that even chlorine cannot wash away, but they all stink of death here, and so she bunkers down and goes to get more salve. Maybe this man may make it. She doesn't like the hospital ward. She's called Beauregard here. Not Beau. But it's this or living on the streets after her parent's vineyards were blown to pulp by falling bombs. 

"Beauregard!" 

She turns to face the head doctor, a sweaty bald-headed man rushing towards her. "Doctor?"

"There's a man over there in the corner who's been asking for you. Maybe you can work a miracle, if not for his life, for our ears."

Beau swallows and nods, bringing fresh bandages and salves with her. She pushes past beds set too close together and moving bodies of nurses and doctors, pushing out the pained groans and screams of soldiers in the throes of nightmares and wracking pain of missing limbs. Pushing the curtain aside to the ward of the most injured, she makes her way to the bed in the far corner and gasps.

The body is wrapped in bandages from head to toe, and it's been years, but Beau would never forget the blue of those Zemnian eyes.

"Beau."

His voice is ragged, throat destroyed by fire, but it's the most beautiful sound Beau's heard in ages. It's the first time Caleb has ever called her that, the first time she's been called something other than "Beauregard" or "Nurse" in this place, and Beau feels her heart swell with emotion.

"Caleb."

She sets the bandages by the stand by the side of his bed and examines the bandages across his face. Peeling them back, she winces at the scorch marks that mar his features and keep him bedridden. A bandaged hand comes up to hold hers, and this time, she doesn't hold back tears.

"The other nurses aren't so kind to me, Beau. It's the accent, I think."

There's a gurgling attempt at a laugh and Beau blinks down the tears gathering at her eyes.

"They don't know that you fought for our side, do they?"

"Does it matter? I sound German. That's enough for them."

Beau shakes her head. "I'm taking over your care now. Tell me. Have you seen Fjord since that letter?"

The stories Caleb tells are ones of heartache and nightmares, but each of his platoon member's names roll off his tongue like a prayer while Beau reapplies salve, and by the end of the day, Caleb's eyes are lighter.

"Did you see Molly while you were at the Front?" 

A faraway look clouds Caleb's features. "No, but I do wish I did. I saw Fjord, but I'm sure you already know of that. I believe Fjord has Frumpkin now..." His voice fades out as he reminisces, and Beau stands to leave.

Caleb's eyes flicker to hers. "The head doctor took my belongings, but will you return Nott's flask to her?"

Beau smiles. "Of course I will. Sweet dreams, Caleb. Welcome home."

Caleb closes his eyes and smiles. "Thank you."

\--

NOVEMBER 1944

Beau slides into the basement after another day at work, waving a letter. "I've got one for you guys!"

Jester cheers as Yasha slips in as well and closes the door, hoisting up a bottle of rum. "And I come bearing gifts!"

Everyone cheers and glasses and cups are brought out and filled.

"How's Caleb doing?"

"Recovering. Still in bed, but he's doing better at home."

"Can I visit him tomorrow?"

"Sure, Nott. Just don't push him too hard."

"Hey guys, I have a letter from Fjord, guys!" Jester says and pulls out a crinkled envelope. She rips it open, presses out the folds of the paper, and reads nice and loud. 

" _Dear Mighty Nein._ Hey, that's us! _I'm writing to you from the Front Lines for what is likely the last time. But fear not, it's for good reason. Our platoon is going home soon!_ "

A series of cheers erupts from the basement and Jester works to hush them all back down before continuing to read. 

" _I'll be coming home to you all within the year. I've missed you all dearly, and look forward to seeing you all again. Tell Caleb that I have been taking good care of Frumpkin. The platoon has taken to him as well, and I fear it will be a bloodbath when we all must leave and Frumpkin must join but one of us. How are the rest of you all? Has Beau fled from Yasha's affection yet?_ "

Beau blushes and leans into Yasha's arm, squirming as Yasha presses a kiss to the side of her head.

" _You will likely be able to get one more letter to where we are before we are re-stationed. You are all in my hearts and I wake up every morning with hope in my chest knowing that I am coming home soon. Love, Fjord._ Aw, that's so sweet!"

Nott claps her hands. "Alright, Beau it's your turn. That letter's probably from Molly, right? He's the only one left fighting out there, unless you have a secret lover in the army?" She wiggles her eyebrows and Beau rolls her eyes.

Jester giggles and sits down. "When did you get your letter, Beau?"

Beau shrugs, setting her cup aside and ripping the envelope open. "A week ago. It looks quite official, which is new." The letter is written on yellowed paper, but it's not signed by Molly. Beau spends a minute reading it silently, eyes widening a little, body betraying nothing.

"Come on, Beau, what did Molly write?" Jester asks, impatiently, drumming her fingers against the crate she's seated on.

A choked sob escapes Beau's throat and she thrusts the paper into Yasha's hands before turning and fleeing through the door, slamming it shut behind her.

Unfolding the now crinkled paper, Yasha reads it out loud. 

" _Dear Mrs Beauregard. Never have I had such a heartbreaking task as I have in writing you this letter. Please, Mrs Beauregard, prepare yourself for a very great shock. Your friend Mollymauk who has been my chief Staff Sergeant for some considerable time, died in an aircraft battle Thursday morning September 9th. He and I were sent to the skies along with our squadron to prepare the way for an assault when he was tragically shot from the skies by German artillery. His plane landed deep within enemy territory and we have been unable to recover his body. Please believe me that everything possible was done to bring him home but it was of no avail.  
It is quite impossible for me to put into words all the things I want to say. Mollymauk was one of the finest men I ever had the good fortune to have as a friend and his loss has come as a terrible blow. To you, on behalf of myself and his many friends out here, I extend my very deepest sympathy at this sad moment. If there is anything I can do for you please let me know as I shall be only too glad to help in any manner whatsoever. My home is in Airdrie and when I return - probably quite soon - I should very much like to come and see you. In the meantime please don't hesitate to write to me regarding anything you may desire. I am yours most sincerely, James N. Smith._ "

She sets the letter down and sits, feeling the weight of loss drape across her shoulders. "Oh Molly, my dear Molly."

They find Beau at the river, sitting on the docks, swinging her feet over the water.

"He deserved so much better, you know?"

Yasha nods, sitting down beside her.

"At least he went out like the flyboy that he is."

Yasha presses a kiss to the top of Beau's head and is shocked to find silent tears streaming down her own cheeks. "I know, Beau. I loved him too."

\--

JULY 1945

Fjord returns to them in July, grimy, tired, too thin, and with sunken eyes, but he still picks up Jester with all the vigour he had when he left when she runs at him, squealing and cheering.

"I've missed you too, darling." And he plants a kiss to Jester's cheek.

Yasha laughs, full-bellied and deep at the sight of Jester's cheeks turning bright red. Her own grease-stained fingers and entwined with Beau's. "Welcome back, Fjord."

His face is marked with exhaustion and hunger and there's a scar on the side of his cheek now, but he's lost his boyish looks and has the face of a ruggedly handsome man, and Jester can clearly tell.

"Thanks, it's good to be back." He goes around, hugging them all. Jester, Nott, Beau, Yasha. He looks around. "Where's Caleb?" 

Beau scuffs her shoe against the ground. "He's back home. Wanted to meet you in private."

Fjord nods and shrugs his bag back onto his back. "Well, I suppose we better head out to find him then, shouldn't we?"

They all make their way to the countryside, a trip new to a few of their group, dropping by Fjord's farm for a bit just to put down his equipment and say hello to his mother before they arrive at Caleb's gated house.

Beau stands to the side and opens the gate. "Right. Well, you first."

Fjord looks at all of them, then pushes through the door. "Caleb?"

In the living room, sitting on a loveseat, book spread across his lap, sits a bespectacled Caleb. "Welcome home, Fjord."

The scarring across his face has healed mostly, but the skin across his throat is still deeply pockmarked and scarred.

"Oh Caleb," Fjord sighs, crossing the room in three rapid steps to envelop Caleb in a warm embrace. "Oh, how I've missed you."

\--

AUGUST 1946

It's a quiet day on the open field, the remaining of the Mighty Nein all dressed up, hair done, gifts in hand. Before them lies a white marker with "Mollymauk Tealeaf, 1917-1944" inscribed on it.

"Hey, Molly." Beau begins, and her voice cracks. She looks up across the horizon to the setting sun. "How's it going bud? We miss you. The war's been over for a year already. You were right. War to End All Wars? Bullshit." She pauses to sniffle, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. "I miss you, Molly. We all fucking miss you. We didn't even get to bury, you, it's not fair..."

Her voice trails off as Yasha turns to embrace her, and Beau buries her head into Yasha's chest. "Hey, Molly?" Yasha's voice cuts through Beau's sobbing, and it stills for a moment. "Beau and I have something to tell you. We're together. Well, you already know that. But buddy, I proposed. Beau cried like a baby."

Beau laughs a little, hiccupping into Yasha's chest.

"I wish you could be here, Molly. Grow old with us. Do all those things we talked about. Travel the world. Pretend to be royalty. Go watch a circus. Join it if you'd want to." A watery laugh escapes Yasha's lips. "I love you, Molly." She takes the flowers from Beau's grasp and joins them with hers, laying them across the base of Molly's cross. "Funny, I don't think Molly ever said he was a Christian."

Jester laughs. "Maybe it's better that he's not actually buried here." She steps forward and puts her pastries down by the cross. "Hey, Molly. I know this might bring the crows, but you always did have an affinity for birds. I hope that, wherever you are, you're being fed lots of great treats like cupcakes. Maybe you guys have better cupcakes where you are. When we meet again, make sure you save some for us, okay?" She steps back, watery-eyed, but smiling.

Fjord comes forward next, digging a little into the ground and placing a coin into the hole before covering it up. "That one's important to me, alright Molly? That's my platoon's challenge coin. I'd like for you to keep it safe. You've always been into shiny things, all those baubles you always used to wear. I'm sorry I never got to see you when I was deployed, and I know I can't make anything up to you now, but I wanted you to have that. You know, so that you'll never have to buy yourself another drink ever again." He stands, dusting his pants off, and salutes. "'Till next time, friend."

Nott stumbles forward, already drunk. She pours a healthy amount of brown liquid across the ground in front of the cross. "To friends." She slurs, and sits down on the now-damp grass, drinking from her flask. No one interrupts her.

A pair of orange furred paws touch the ground and with a gentle thump, Frumpkin lands on the grass and pads her way over to the cross, curling up around its base. Caleb smiles from the back. "Molly, this is Frumpkin. Frumpkin, this is Mollymauk Tealeaf."

Frumpkin yawns a little and rests his head against the wood.

"I loved you, you idiot," Caleb whispers, and Yasha's eyes lift in surprise. "I loved you, and you went and died before I was ready to tell you." Caleb swallows, feeling something sticking in the back of his throat. "I guess now is a good a time as any. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier."

Sensing Caleb's distress, Frumpkin comes back to his feet and lays down.

"I hope you don't mind my appearance. I'd say I'm a little unkempt, but everyone is now."

A glance across the Mighty Nein reveals as much. Even though these are in their best clothes, there is a hollowness to their cheeks, a tiredness in their eyes. 

"You always were the best of us, Mollymauk Tealeaf. It would have been audacious for us to see you age and see your hair turn white."

Jester giggles at the image.

Caleb sighs and scuffs his shoe against the dirt. "That's all I prepared. Didn't have enough time for a beautiful conclusion, but you are a beautiful conclusion enough, I suppose. The earth is cold and hard, but may the warmth and softness of our friendship burn bright in your chest forevermore."

They walk Nott back to the centre of town and drop Jester off back at her mother's brothel, in the midst of repairs. They bring Caleb back to his home with Frumpkin and lead him through the gate before waving goodbye. And then Beau and Yasha tangle their fingers together and, head held high, chests filled with love, continue out towards the horizon.

**Author's Note:**

> Both the radio segment and the letter of condolence comes from real letters and transcripts of broadcasts from WWII, courtesy of BBC. You can find the originals at the following links:
> 
> Radio Transcript  
> http://www.bbc.co.uk/archive/battleofbritain/11440.shtml?page=txt
> 
> Letter of Condolence  
> http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ww2peopleswar/stories/65/a1137665.shtml
> 
> This is by no means an effort to realistically represent the entirety of life during WWII, but as a writer who believes that historical accuracy lends a hand to the believability and immersiveness of a story, the events mentioned correspond with the dates and actually did happen.
> 
> If you enjoyed this, please leave a comment and kudo. #LongLiveMollymaukTealeaf
> 
> Title from Younger by A Great Big World
> 
> Tumblr: frumpkinspocketdimension  
> Discord: SweetBabyRae#0967


End file.
